


Time's a Funny Thing (but that's okay)

by Drapetomania



Series: Mila's Sterek Bingo [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alpha Derek Hale, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24480625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drapetomania/pseuds/Drapetomania
Summary: One day they're just Derek & Stiles, the next they're married with a kid.Sterek Bingo 2020 theme: Fake/Pretend Relationship
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Mila's Sterek Bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752541
Comments: 6
Kudos: 149





	Time's a Funny Thing (but that's okay)

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started writing this fic/idea in like ... 2015/16 lmao and I never managed to make something out of it but Sterek Bingo brought it out with a twist!!
> 
> Although this is far lesser of a fic than I imagined when I first got the idea, this is the most I've managed in 4/5 years so in some way I'm (trying to be) proud of it because for some reason it means a lot to me :)
> 
> Maybe one day I manage to revisit or continue or something

Derek thinks he knows the saddest sights. He thinks he's seen the deepest depths of sorrow and the darkest shades of despair and he thinks he's become numb to them. That is, until he comes face to face with a shaggy haired boy who can't be older than twelve. The boy's face is smeared with dirt and it's twisted into a glare, clothes hanging limply from his frame, dirty and torn. 

The prickling feeling of impending doom starts crawling through Derek's veins even before the boy snarls. He likes to think of it as a sixth sense he developed throughout the years that prepared him for the worst (never mind that a certain paranoia lingers 24/7). But Derek isn't ready for the way his stomach drops or the way his heart feels torn from his chest, as if still healing wounds are being carved open again, all at once but slowly and painfully.   
  
The boy drops his fangs and snarls with a natural grace that Derek had been far from possessing at that age. He's flashing his eyes in warning, the color bright and fiery, etching itself into Derek's brain instantly like blood soaking into guilty hands.   
  
'Maybe it's a nightmare,' he hopes, 'maybe it isn't real?' And he wishes he's dreaming, wishes his chest hurt in the way it does when Stiles looks at him a little too long and Derek is forced to turn his head away, instead of this. He'd choose anything over this.   
  
There's a boy standing in front of him and his eyes shine as red as the fire truck toy he should've been playing with in the safety of his home.   
  
There's a child standing in front of him who is an alpha, and that can only mean one thing: he's the only one left. He's the only one left like Derek was the only one left after he had been forced to kill Peter and the boy looks younger even than he had been at the time of the fire.   
  
Derek never knows how to react to children. He doesn't drop down to coo at toddlers like Scott does, he doesn't know what kids need beside their mother like Lydia does, and he can't flail around to make them laugh like Stiles does. He wasn't very good at talking to his betas while they were still teens; not until he had spent enough time around them. In short, Derek doesn't bond quickly, and he especially has a hard time with children because he's afraid of breaking them. So he stays away.   
  
But this sight is tugging at heart, hard enough to make his eyes sting and he holds his hand out on instinct, palm up. The boy's forehead furrows further as his gaze grows even more wary. Derek tries to keep his expression gentle and make himself as small as possible. Eventually he even lowers his gaze but he keeps his arm up even if he starts to feel a little awkward. When the boy moves it's to start moving backward. It's like a kick to Derek's gut and he really doesn't know what he's supposed to do but he can't let him leave and continue roaming all on his own.   
  
"Wait," he says and is relieved that the boy pauses again, eyes fixed on him when Derek brings his head back up again. "I'm not going to hurt you," he tells him quietly.   
  
The other werewolf eyes his chest for the fraction of a second as if he's listening for his heartbeat. It's an amazing feat for someone so young but Derek knows that life can force you to do all kinds of things thought impossible with the right ( wrong) pressure. When it comes down to fight or die, you fight.   
  
"You can stay here. It's safe." As safe as it can get for a child existing in the dark overlap between an unstable, insecure supernatural minority and the strictly regulated, merciless human world. Once more his fear flames up, a bright spark easily engulfing the dark corners of his mind that were coated with an undying suspicion that there is no hope. For anyone anywhere. Not for him, not for his pack, not even for this truly innocent soul in front of him. He manages to keep his pessimism subdued most days but when things go wrong and ugly truths bare their face, he struggles. This time, it's another wildfire and Derek can't remember the last time he'd had to fight so strongly to keep his tears contained.

His skin itches just to wrap the boy up in a blanket and stick him somewhere no horror of life could ever touch him again. "Please."

He flashes his eyes just for a second as he reveals his wolven face, bearing himself so there would be no nasty surprise there in the future. 

"I… you can start a new pack. You don't have to be alone." He grapples for words like never before, a desperate chase with extended claws, ever reaching. "I-I did it too. And I can help you."

The fine line between offering enough independent space for the terrified lone wolf and protecting an innocent child sufficiently felt like a shaky thread he didn't dare tread on because it would slip, split, catch and break beneath even a single sharpened fingertip, not to mention Derek's entire weight if he tried to tiptoe across it. 

But… there is a thread, and that silvery spider web of hope is enough for Derek to throw his soul out into the abyss.

"You don't have to do this on your own… I won't make you do anything you don't want to. You-you're a free wolf. You decide, just," he looks down, heart squeezing painfully. "Just let me… help."

Derek meets the boy's gaze again and holds it, trying wildly to build up enough confidence to override his anxiety. For one so small, the pup has a strong, unwavering persona. His eyes are still a glaring red. For a moment, they seem to harden in disproval (or disgust?) but Derek doesn't let himself be so easily deterred, not at this point, not until- the little werewolf gives a curt nod. His tiny hand clenches into a fist and chin tips up as he blinks away the red.

A rush of breath leaves Derek in relief before he can school himself rigid again. He has to be a rock for this child. 

He nods, turns around and leads the way without another word.

\---

Derek sits at the kitchen table as he waits. It's the furthest point away from the upstairs bathroom as possible and he's holding his mug against his chest but the tea in it is already cold. And still he sits. His phone is on the table in front of him, screen bright, showing his last interaction with Stiles. 

**Derek**

_ Get here as soon as you can. _

**Derek**

_ Bring some kid's clothes. Large. _

**Missed calls: Stiles (3)**

**Stiles**

_ Derek wtf _

**Stiles**

_ Pick up ur phone _

**Stiles**

_ I mean it what is that even supposed to mean _

**Stiles**

_ Should I be worried about your grumpy ass? _

**Stiles**

_ The least you could do is assure me you didn't kidnap anyone _

**Stiles**

_...you didn't right? _

**Derek**

_ Just do it and get over here. Now. _

**Missed calls: Stiles(2)**

**Stiles**

_ DEREK SAMUEL HALE _

**Stiles**

_ Derek I swear to God!!! _

**Missed calls: Stiles**

**Stiles**

_ I can't believe you _

**Stiles**

_ Do you actually want the kid's clothes? _

**Stiles**

_ I better not hear some shit about a missing kid from my dad. _

**Stiles**

_ Did something happen? Are you hurt _

**Derek**

_ Kid's clothes. Come in QUIETLY and CALMLY. _

**Missed calls: Stiles(2)**

**Stiles**

_ You're impossible to work with!! _

**Stiles**

_ I hate you _

**Stiles**

_ I /really/ hate you _

**Stiles**

_ Like so much _

**Stiles**

_ Be there in 15. _

  
  
  
  


So Derek is sitting there, waiting, watching the clock run the minutes down in a crawl. He almost wishes Stiles would be distracting him somehow but even the texts he got from him are barely processable next to this giant issue he has upstairs. But he can't have the boy hearing him conversate with Stiles. Stiles is too likely to run his mouth and shake things up. They need to approach this situation with care.

Not a situation. A child. There is a child in his bathroom upstairs. An orphaned child, who is also a werewolf and he can't just turn it over to the government. Not that the boy would go easily, no. Hunters would hear and be on his trail before they would have time to rally. No, they have to keep this on the down low.

He has to have some family left somewhere, right? Distant cousins? There has to be a place for him to turn to, to make his new home at. Derek's thoughts are burning rubber in his brain like he was stuck in drift, no steering wheel or break, just an inevitable crash ahead. A concrete wall like the four around him, closing in ever closer.

Ironically, the jeep happens to squeal into the parking lot below and Derek waits for the crash that never comes with paused breath. He bites back a curse as all movement ceases from above. Not that he faults Stiles either, because he simply cannot wait to have the male standing beside him and supporting him with this matter. 

Derek would be lost without Stiles, at this point. Stiles is his focal point, the sun of his solar system, both the moon and his anchor all at once. It's just as exhilarating and comforting as it was worrying and terrifying. He's never sure how much is too much, doesn't want to become obsessed, or bite off more than he can chew. Because he knows, Stiles would swan dive with him straight to hell, if Derek let him. There's no way he's allowed to lose sight and let that happen. 

Exactly that, is what prevents that from happening though. Derek's blood cools slowly with every step Stiles takes up the stairs. Stiles is both his weakness and his strength. He's just not allowed to let his head run away from him. The greatest monster was always within his head. The self-doubt, self-hatred - the inner critic. Whether Derek needs cold, hard facts to steel himself with, or an open heart to envelope and shield him from the cruel darkness… Stiles is always there.

Prying his fingers off the mug, Derek sets it down and stands. Breathes.

In the stairwell, Stiles slows. Derek can hear Stiles' heartbeat betray his calm steps up the last flight and finds himself already halfway across towards the door. He stops, lets Stiles come to him instead, his hands tense at his side.

Stiles inches the loft door open, peeking in warily with a quickly jumping gaze before he settles his attention on Derek and steps through. Derek had to admit, Stiles learned to control his physical reactions very well. It's a shield against the supernatural not only on a personal level but for the whole pack. Aside from his elevated heart rate and moderate level of worry, Stiles radiates nothing but level-headnesses.

The door clicks back into place closes and Stiles offers a small smile, primarily formal, a gentle reassurance. 

The little wolf is still silent.

Derek swallows hard. 

\--

"So… I easily could've bought a medium." Stiles judges, shrugging helplessly. "Possibly even a small."

The track suit hangs off of the tiny frame like an oversized *. Bathed and freshly dressed - after a lengthy persuasion contest - the orphan Derek found, stands before them with new found curls and striking bronze skin. His past nevertheless left haunting memories etched upon him, from the stark bones visible to the hard lines of mouth and eyes. Derek's heart won't stop breaking.

He can't even find it in himself to snark back at Stiles.

There still hasn't been a single word to come from the pup and Derek doesn't blame him. He just wishes he had even just a single idea on what to do next.

"Ah well, we can just roll up the ends for now and I can go get you something more fitting later," Stiles waves it off.

Stepping forward, Stiles makes to approach the pup but he's sent tripping backwards when the fangs immediately drop and a warning growl ripples through the air. Derek steadies Stiles, pulling him back to his side. He gives him a sharp look but resolves not to lecture Stiles in front of the kid.

"Or um," Stiles clears his throat, obviously a little shaken but Derek doesn't blame him. He can barely look over at that tiny little alpha himself, without setting his heart off weeping.

"You can just do it yourself… or leave it. No problem whatsoever. Why would there be any kind of problem." He tries to ease the tension again by shrugging and waving it off, a smile quickly finding its way back onto his face.

"Maybe you can let me know what you'd prefer. I won't even set a cash limit for spending! Not that I'm rich or anything but I do have a job, unlike some of us," Stiles says, and turns to Derek, and Derek can tell what he's doing, angling his body away from the vulnerable boy. He mimics the movement and searches for purchase in those warm, brown eyes. 

"Got any of that stew left from yesterday? Or did Erica swoop by again and gobble it all up?" Stiles asks.

Derek nods. "Yeah. It's in the fridge…" 

It takes him a moment to set his body into action and he finds himself first taking hold of Stiles' arm. It's probably more for his own security than to make sure Stiles follows him down the stairs immediately. He throws one last look over his shoulder, relieved to see the boy is standing there fully human again, sleeves pushed a little further up his arms. 

"We'll go heat up some food. Join us, when you're ready," he says quietly. There's no reaction from the little poker face but Derek keeps his hopes up as he leads Stiles down to the kitchen.

"Holy shit," Stiles lets out, eyes wide. He lets himself fall back to lean on the counters. 

Derek throws him a look from where he's opened the fridge, hoping Stiles will keep in mind that every word they speak will be heard. 

Stiles shakes his head, mouth opening again but then shutting. He crosses his arms and stares down, thoughtful in a way Derek doesn't often see him. 

"This is the last thing I expected to be doing this weekend," Derek hears, while he busies himself with the pot he set on the stove, and is unable to find any good response to that. 

\----

"Are you sure leaving him there all alone is really a good idea?" Stiles is reluctant to let the loft building out of his sight and Derek gets it. He has to press his nails into his palms to keep himself from turning on heel and going back. 

"We need to find out what we can about him, preferably without making him angry or upset. He's still ready to bolt," Derek points out.

"Which is why we probably shouldn't give him all the opportunity to get away!"

"He's not going to trust us if we keep him hostage." Derek eyes Stiles and inclines his head toward the jeep before he opens the passenger door and climbs in. He leans his head back against the headrest.

Stiles doesn't immediately follow, his head lifting to look up the building. Derek doesn't hear the sigh but sees the way Stiles' chest expands and then falls. With a shake of his head, he makes his way over and joins Derek in the car.

Having dug out the keys, Stiles sticks them into the ignition and starts the engine. 

"How is he an Alpha?" Stiles asks, voice low enough to be masked completely to the outside world by the engine. Derek closes his eyes tight.

"I mean… how does a  _ child _ become an Alpha? He should be an Omega, never more than a Beta. It's… This isn't right." Stiles vigorously shakes his head.

Derek swallows, his throat so dry it almost hurts. "He probably had someone to protect. Someone younger… or weaker."

"He's like nine!"

Derek shrugs, following the trees passing them by outside the window. Sure, there's a big difference between this little boy and the 16 years of age Laura had on her record when she had become his alpha but… Derek had learned that neither life or death or misery discriminate. No one is safe.

"Wait… does that mean there's another kid still out there somewhere?" Stiles whips his head over to face Derek but Derek just shakes his head. He knows the scent of loneliness.

"Are you sure? Maybe there-"

"He was alone." Derek knows Stiles is just desperate to hope for a better reality for the little one - so does Derek - but there was no use wasting time and energy on 'if only's. 

Stiles settles back with a frown, fingers scratching against the wheel. 

"Well, we'll make it work. We got this," Stiles says, obviously able to obtain all possible confidence that was left for them. Derek wishes he could just crawl in under some blankets and hide from the world. All he has right now is the solace of his one hand covering his eyes. He's finding it hard to keep his brain from crashing and it's only the fact that there's a little werewolf out there with no one else to defend him from the world that keeps him sane.

"Hey," Stiles says. 

Derek sighs and drags his hand down.

"If we can fight off literal personifications of death, we can find a safe place for him. Where he will be happy."

Derek can't bring himself to look over.

"Okay?"

Derek sighs.

Stiles grabs his hand and gives it a little shake. "Derek, you hear me? I will do whatever it takes to make sure that nothing ever happens to him anymore. I will protect him with my life. You know, that thing where I put my life on the line for everyone else?"

Finding himself under a strong stare from Derek, Stiles lets a little grin sneak into his face.

"You know that's not a good thing, right?" Derek says.

"Yep. But sometimes it's right." Stiles says. Then urges. "Okay?"

Slowly, Derek nods, chest a tiny bit lighter as he breathes.

"Okay."

\---

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Derek asks, his own hands clenched in his lap to keep them from shaking because if they start, Derek's pretty sure his whole existence would shake apart from the nerves.

It's one thing to be playing the system on your own behalf, to be responsible primarily for just yourself, and a whole other thing to involve two other lives… forever. This isn't about him, it's about an innocent kid's life. To be fair, he's done something similar before, by biting his now betas bit this is a kid; a traumatized orphaned kid he has chosen to raise on his own.

And Stiles. 

Stiles, who is sitting next to him, wearing the same golden band around his right ring finger as Derek, except with a confident smile. Marriage, birth certificates and adoption papers in hand, he sits straight and determined. His only tell are the rigid shoulders but then again it wouldn't be very acceptable for him to slouch here. 

All the documents are faked, courtesy of said man holding them. Of course, they could have gone fake all the way, could've gone without involving Stiles as a guardian but after discussing all possibilities and risks, they decided this is the safest option. Having actual legitimate government issued documentation that the three of them are family eliminates most risks.

Derek knows why he's trying to prove he's a legal guardian of little Troy. Despite their rocky start, and some runaway attempts, the pup had eventually settled in, and wildly enough, quickly came to trust Derek most. Maybe it's the fact that they're both scarce with words, maybe Stiles is right about his theory that Derek's cautiousness comes across as both respect and a safe barrier. Either way, it's clear that for now, Troy is staying. And to keep from any problems from the side of the law, the sheriff had suggested adoption. He'd helped set it up.

So that explains why Stiles got extra involved but Derek still doesn't quite understand why Stiles chose to get 'married' (they didn't even bother putting in the effort to get someone ordained online and go through some bullshit process, they just went straight for the rings and a professional printer) and Derek reminded Stiles again and again that he still has his whole life ahead of him - 24 years of age is nothing! - but Stiles had placed his hand on Derek's forearm. A delicate touch that made Derek's heart ache because he couldn't remember the last time someone had been so gentle with him. With that Stiles had looked at him, smiled and seemed to mull over his words - which, rare - and had then asked, "You know I'm not going anywhere, right?"

Derek had swallowed just as thickly as he does now, hearing the couple in the office currently wrapping it up. All he really knows about Stiles in the end is that he owes him… everything. And Derek hopes to be able to give him as much in return.

Stiles turns to him and slips a hand into his to intertwine their fingers. Derek stares at it in disbelief, blinking as if that could clear his mind to the reality that this next bit is going to be all show - no matter how much a part of him wishes it were real. With a bump of their shoulders, Stiles makes him look up and the quirk of eyebrows seem to ask 'okay?' or 'ready?', all while projecting a sense of safety.

Taking a deep breath, Derek nods. He smiles even, because his heart is so warm with fondness and admiration for this strong, young man next to him that he feels like he might explode. This whole 'keep his feelings a secret' arrangement and pining behind closed doors doesn't seem like a very viable long-term solution anymore. 

He feels the soft brush of Stiles' thumb over his knuckle even as the office they're waiting in front of opens up and they are called in.

"Mr. Hale, and Mr. Stilinski-Hale?" Her voice is kind. Derek had listened in on the prior appointment, even though he knows that those don't demonstrate good manners. He can't help it. He's incredibly jumpy and he needs this to go smoothly. It's only normal to be nervous, he's about to be legally playing a father. All future repercussions will be on him.

Of course, he doesn't plan on letting anything remotely harmful coming close to Troy in any way, but he knows that that doesn't mean he won't make mistakes. It doesn't mean he might not end up being neglectful to the boy or possibly making something worse. 

He's terrified.

But he finds solace in the presence next to him and tries to focus solely on confidence as he sits down in front of the desk with his  husband fake-husband. 

Derek knows how to play the part. Charming smiles, open body language, leaning in and searching contact. He's done it all before. He just hasn't done it with Stiles, and it sets his heart thundering like never before.

Talking about electricity in his veins? He used to always picture Kate in front of him with her satanic smile, and just feel the pain as his body writhed against the chains. But now he gets the true reference.

He has to shake himself out of his stupor a little and assume the lead. They are talking about his supposed kid that being accepted by Stiles. 

Bringing their linked hands up, he places his free hand over Stiles' and gives him an earnest smile. There is no part to play with Stiles, God damn it and Derek swears to himself, soon. Soon, he will bring these feelings to light.

"It's time," he says, letting his excitement beam as he turns to the woman Stiles had handed all the papers to. "We've already been a family for so long, and we've been married for a while now. The little guy loves him. It's time."


End file.
